Ferry–Roubaix

Paris–Roubaix is a one-day professional bicycle road race in northern France near the Belgian frontier. Famous for rough terrain and cobblestones (setts), it is one of the 'Monuments' or Classics of the European calendar. It has been called the Hell of the North, and a Sunday in Hell.

Ferry–Roubaix is a one-day extended tour through central VA crossing the James via a drawbridge and ferry with a unofficial race after the Robaix sign is passed in the Chickahominy swamp, totaling ~125 miles. Famous for rough launguage, 40 ounces, the James Town Ferry, and gravel stones (shetts), it is an 'Homage un Coq' or a Classique of the Virginia calendar. It has been called the annual two wheeled wander through the Shires of Kent and Surrey and York, the Counties of Prince George and King James and King Charles, The Burg of King William and his queen Mary per the Rooster.

“When hurt is the only thing that will ease the pain, that is Ferry-Roubaix.”
A quote from the great Rooster himself, Fantastique!

Bonjour
The day started early at the Haines Châteaux as we loaded our vélocipède à deux roués into Le Truck using a fine wedging plank of pin.


We were soon en route to the spring residence of le coq some 37 kilomètres east. A fine country breakfast of bacon and moufflets awaited the hungry participants. Garcon, Coffee!




From New Kent to Charles City County
The morning air was still pretty cold as we began the day rolling through the country side. Like any good European roadway, we negotiated two carrousel manège on our way to the Benjamin Harris Bridge across the mighty James. A state trooper was waiting at one roundabout and waited to megaphone Toddy G with “single file”.

I found my inner road bike roots and soon settled into the peloton for a few good pulls. I guess DNA from French ancestors on my mother’s side of the family can’t be denied.


Toddy G reaches for a snack, perhaps a croissant?


Our first river crossing loomed in the distance as we approached the Benjamin Harris drawbridge. The steel mesh grate of the vertical lifting span induced a space/time warp captured by my camera obscura!




South of the River
Upon reaching route 10 we stopped at a filing station. Many a rider took advantage of the chance to dispose of fluids and refill. A 650 milli litre bottle of Miller was rumored to make an appearance. And oui, er…, we were off!

Powered by hops and barley, Metro pulled many a mile in fine form. The tour took us through pleasant country roads nestled between the river and le voie publique, known to locals as route 10.

Stopping at a corner store in Surry let every one replenish supplies, gator aid, water, snacks, a 22oz of Modelo, and a bottle of Sam.

Ferry tale
After an extended tour of the fine lands of the south side we arrived at the landing of the namesake of the tour. Ahoy! The Ferry awaits, let us embarque on the good ship Pocohontas!

The peloton weaved past all the awaiting cars and motorcycles.


Whoa, says those motorcyclist, Plassman don’t care.


On the Ferry bicyclist are first in…last out.


We had to lash our bikes to the sides of the vessel…



And then a hike a bike, Ferry style…





Colonial Route Panoramique
Once off the ferry, we skirted the James river on our way to Colonial Williamsburg via the Colonial Parkway. The parkway surface was characterized as “rattling your tater hole” by one of our fine participants. The unmarked pavement is made of rounded "river gravel" set in a concrete-mix, providing an unusual earth tone color.

Café and entrés
After pausing on a bridge to collect our rank and file, we made our way to café Aromas. The venue was a bit of a zoo on a truly nice Sunday afternoon of this spring.



A sweaty bunch of cyclist get a little extra elbow room in a café full of typical colonial tourist. Whoa… says a girl waiting for her latte, as I ask the barista to fill my water bottles. Plassman don’t care.

Rough Road Ahead
The peloton rolled out of Williamsburg and headed for York River park. We approached the entrance to Camp Perry and peeled off to the left down a causeway that would turn out to be a bit douteux.

The recent spring thunderstorms had blown down a ton of debris into the shoulder we were riding on. Making matters worse were numerous folds in the asphalt shoulder. Pretty soon the riding became nasty ass as we bounced on sticks, pine cones, and pavement cracks. Mountain bike skills kicked in and it was not so bad, just smack that road right back.

We turned off pavement for our first gravel road section that took us to the York River. One sharp right hand corner tested the bike handling skills of many. We blazed by some startled folks who were on mountain bikes. Once we got to the river, Scottie D caught me and led the charge. A surprise drainage culvert came up way too fast and required me to bunny hop into the transition and catch some air on the way out.

On to Roubaix
The tour stopped at a sign that would have you think we were in France. A motley crew indeed!


And so it begins!
After 80 miles of touring and a few more miles of pavement, we arrived at the gravel road that signified the start of the unofficial 40+ mile race. I was feeling pretty spry as we hit the gravel and I jumped on it. Tom Haines joined chase and the Rooster was hot on my tail.

I put in a nice hard effort and shook most of the Peleton, but Tom was steadily pulling a gap on me. We were riding our road bikes on the gravel faster than can stand the test of common sense.

Transitioning back to road, Mr. Haines lit the engine that turned him into a cruise missile. I struggled to keep him in sight, but he steadily pulled away. Tom and I were out front with no one in sight from the rear. Some seriously strong winds were sapping the juice out of both of us, each of us riding separately in our own breakaways.

Other riders were wiser and teamed up to pace line. Eventually I would get overtaken about 2/3 of the way to the end. Tom remained in the lead and would have been the 1st to finish were it not for a round about directional faux pas. He came in second by seconds.

I was glad to find the finish a few riders, and a few minutes later. My legs were officially french roasted. The rest of the cyclist all put in strong finishes and we celebrated with a fine spread of open faced sandwiches and excellent home brew.

A special thanks to the Rooster and Scottie D for hosting the event and marking the course

Cheers, Jeff.

~ Fini ~